


Comparison'll Get Ya

by Upupanyway



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Bro stuff, Like actual sex, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, PWP, Sexy, a little dubcon bc there's some unintentional somnophilia and alcohol involved, but they try to be respectful about it, dick measuring, just general dude stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 23:24:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Upupanyway/pseuds/Upupanyway
Summary: They want to know who's better at sex. You have five guesses as to how they determine the answer.





	Comparison'll Get Ya

**Author's Note:**

> Actual and literal dick measuring. (Spoiler: there's no real conclusion)

Matt has his dick in hand. Not his own dick. _ His _. Foggy's. It's a bit of a delicate situation.

"Why are we even measuring flaccid? You can't get any information by measuring flaccid," Foggy whines. Foggy's more than a little drunk, and Matt thought he was, too. But no, he realized he's sober as a trapped rabbit as soon as Foggy's dick hit his fingers.

They had heard conflicting rumours about the pair of them at the party. Some girl that Matt had dated was talking about his sexual prowess. A girl that Foggy had dated was ensuring the other about Foggy's. They giggled together on the couch by the window, sharing a joint, half sharing their personal anecdotes, but stopping coyly when their stories got too telling.

Matt and Foggy had walked up to them with a sultry smile and a charming wink. The girls dragged them into a friendly kiss (because all of them were single at the moment and everything was cheery and fun) and they continued to snicker.

"What are guys talking about?" Foggy had asked.

"We're trying to determine which of you is better in bed," one of them, Charly, told them brightly.

"And I'm trying to tell her there's no way Matty is both bigger and has more stamina than Foggy, who is a beast," the other, Yasmine, finished, taking a short drag. Fondly, she blew out into Foggy's mouth, making him chortle.

Matt, who had not said anything on account of how hot his face was feeling, drank from his cool bottle of beer and hoped it read as nonchalant.

Except Foggy was drunkish and jovial. "Have you seen the muscles on this guy? There is no way I have more stamina. Might eke out the other one though if I'm lucky, right?" Matt was, at this point in life, a youth and horny by nature. He didn't know how to telepathically stop his friend from talking about his dick so it didn't make a guest appearance, so he sipped at his beverage and didn't say anything.

"You've never compared?" Yasmine asked, making Matt sputter a little.

"Is that something people do?" Matt gaped, eyebrows to his hairline.

There was a brief pause and a considering look between the two women.

"All I can say is we have definitely been in each others' presence while naked," Charly said.

So, yeah. Foggy's penis. In Matt's hand. Comparison. That's all this is. Nothing sordid about touching your friend's penis in someone else's bathroom while a party goes on outside. Just a quick little comparison. For friendship purposes. And Matt with his fingers. On Foggy's dick.

Matt decides he should stop.

He doesn't let go.

"Are you saying we should compare full mast?" Matt is dizzy. He should really stop.

"I mean we can't get a good idea of it unless we do, right?" Foggy says it almost easily. A slur to his voice because he is drunk. Meaning he can't consent to these kind of touches. Matt pulls his hand away guiltily at the thought.

"Um," is all he can say. He's suddenly feeling very dry.

"No, no," Foggy backtracks. "That wasn't me asking for anything. I can do it myself if you want. Get ourselves ready for the actual measuring." Which isn't better because Foggy will be touching his own dick in Matt's presence, which Matt is sure is also not nothing. Foggy's grumbling and fumbling for himself and it's too much because Foggy's drunk and Matt shouldn't be here for this.

"You don't have to. We can get back to this later. When you're more sober" Or never. Because when Foggy wakes up in the morning, he won't remember this, but Matt will still feel the phantom softness of Foggy's skin on his fingertips for decades.

"Matty, it's fine. We're best friends. At this point, maybe it's the weird thing that we haven't done this before."

Matt sighs. Despite everything, he's beyond tempted.

"Then I'm not touching you. You have to touch yourself and narrate for me."

"And you'll do the same? There's no point if you're not doing this with me, man."

Matt frowns. He's already exposed, his jeans and boxer briefs hitched on his ass, hooked below his equipment. "Sure. Okay."

"Okay, Matt, I'm going to start um, yeah."

Matt doesn't need to be told this. He can infer from the sounds of skin on skin and heartbeat and the little moans Foggy elicits from himself.

And Matt feels guilty that he doesn't even think to fantasize about anything else as he reaches for himself. Not with Foggy so close in front of him, pumping himself steadily and grunting into Matt's ear. He can feel the breaths on his cheeks. Matt lets himself inch ever so slightly forward to rest his head on Foggy's shoulder. So much for not touching. He breathes in Foggy's neck and starts to feel himself twitch.

"You at full height yet?" Foggy asks, slowing his strokes. Right. The dick measuring. As friends. Matt nods and hums because he can't talk. Not with the knowledge of Foggy's excited cock mere inches from his knuckles. Not with the smell of their moist exertion in the cramped space between them. Not with Foggy's breath at his neck.

"How should we do this?" Foggy muses as the ponders the two erections in front of him like a math puzzle. "Can I touch you?"

"Yeah." It comes out too breathy.

And Foggy does. He lines them up, tip to root and vice versa as much as he can.

And Matt knows now, unequivocally, that Foggy is bigger. Girthier. He's deep musk and velvet skin and thick and decadent and he's touching Matt.

"You're longer, I think. 'Cause you're a little bent," Foggy narrates generously. Matt can smellheartaste the saliva in his mouth.

"But you're thicker," he concludes.

They're still touching. And Matt can feel the length of him on his own and it takes an immense amount of self control to not initiate friction.

"I guess we know now," Matt says dryly, tucking himself away carefully, lest he embarrass himself. He hears Foggy do the same.

They head out and they hear a few wolf whistles as they unlock the bathroom and beeline towards their dorm a few floors up.

They tell each other good night almost immediately, but Matt stays up for a long while after that, until the memory of Foggy and arousal around him doesn't claw so much as cling.

He can tell Foggy doesn't really sleep, either.

\--

The next morning is awkward because both of them are stone sober and both of them remember every detail of last night.

"Sorry," Matt starts, because he feels guilty for a lot of things right now. "I shouldn't have… taken advantage of the situation last night. You were pretty out of it."

"I was, like, three lagers in, man. I wasn't _ that _ gone. I'm sorry for being so pushy. I don't know. Something about the situation made it seem okay at the time." Foggy buries his face into a pillow. "And you were drinking last night too. I shouldn't have suggested. Honestly, it didn't even occur to me that it was even all that sexual until it started happening."

Matt cringes. Because it was very sexual to him. Right at the outset.

"Like, we're best friends," Foggy continues. "Of course I want to know all about you. I didn't even think how creepy it was for me to just sexually assault you like that. Holy shit. I'm so sorry."

Matt wants to laugh. Because ditto. "Okay, since we were both inebriated and we both did some touching, and neither of us intended any harm, and there was no penetration or violence or coercion involved, the case can't continue. We can just agree to move past it?"

"Sure. Thanks, buddy." Foggy sighs in relief. He shucks his sheets off of himself and sits at the edge of his bed. "I'm gonna take first shower if you're okay with that."

The water turns on eventually, and Matt does not think about Foggy's naked body.

\--

They don't talk about it again until years and years later when there's three of them huddled in Foggy's apartment. They're a few drinks in after a victory in court and Karen says, "Foggy you have to stop slouching. I swear you grow like five inches when your confidence kicks in. It's kind of sexy." To which, Foggy replies "that's dangerous, I'm already a giant. Can't afford to scare off clients." And Karen snorts because, "there's no way you're even like six feet tall," and Foggy whines because he's been drinking wine and he insists that he's a whole six feet tall _ at least_.

So Matt cuts in with a, "you can't be six feet because I'm six feet and you're shorter than me."

So they stand back to back, and bring out the tape measures, and even through the alcoholic fog they do, in fact, discern that Foggy is less than six feet tall because Matt is exactly 5'12".

"It's an inch!" Foggy complains. "I'm only shorter by an inch!"

"A whole inch," Matt teases. Then adds, "pipsqueak."

"An inch is nothing and I'm six feet tall."

"Foggy," Matt gasps in mock offense. "An inch is everything!"

"Dude, I will fight you. I have like 40 pounds on you and I will win with my excellent fisticuffs," the other man pouts. It's not serious but still inexcusably adorable how he huffs and plops down onto the La-z-boy.

"You're not bigger than me," Matt says with definite finality.

And Karen laughs drunkenly at the thinly veiled innuendo. "Take your dick measuring elsewhere, boys! I'm a respectable lady!"

And the boys do grow silent.

"Have you ever actually…?" Karen asks, curious through her gin.

And it's not like Matt can lie to her. "Yes, of course!" Matt says at the same time Foggy says, "No! Who do you think we are?"

She laughs at them again. "What's the verdict?"

And Matt is definitely blushing. He thinks maybe Foggy is too, but he can't tell where the booze heat stops and the embarrassment heat starts.

But still, it's not like he could lie. "Foggy wins," he says at the same time his best friend says, "Matt's bigger" in a wistful sort of way.

Karen laughs again, defeated. "Okay, fine. Don't tell me."

Matt laughs, too. The conversation moves on without him.

They get Karen into a cab and Matt doesn't want to leave. So he doesn't. He sets up shop on Foggy's couch and they're in boxers and undies and socks now, almost ready to start dozing.

"Foggy, remember that time you touched my dick?" Matt calls into the washroom before he can think better of it. Foggy is brushing his teeth.

"Is that the time after you touched mine?" he counters. It's a light jab. Friendly now, because they're not awkward and hormonal like they once were. (Maybe a little, but only a little.)

Matt hums and tries to remember how Foggy felt in his hand, along his length. Not consciously.

"Hey, Matt?" Foggy asks from the washroom, drying his hands on a towel. "Wanna know something kinda fucked up?" Foggy's heart is beating at double speed but his voice is low and even.

"What's that?" Matt gulps. They're on some precipice.

"I think I had a crush on you back then."

Which is interesting. Tragic.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Never seemed the time. And then, well…" Foggy trails off. Matt fills in the gaps. _ And then it stopped_. _And then I got to know you better_. _And then you were Daredevil_. "And then it didn't really matter because we were best friends and I wouldn't trade anything for that."

Matt frowns. Oh, to be able to go back even five years with this knowledge. They could be elsewhere right now. On each other's laps, maybe.

"Why mention it now?" Matt chokes out.

"I don't know. Karen reminded me and we were just dumb kids. It's kind of a funny anecdote now. Like, 'hey, Matt, remember when I was in love with you?' Or something to that effect."

And no one said anything about _ love _. Well, Foggy did. Just now. Matt heard it with his own ears.

"Okay," is all Matt says as he remembers viscerally the feeling of urgent and ceaseless pining. He's too old for it, but the feeling fits like a well-worn glove.

"Well, good night!" Foggy says too cheerfully.

Matt lets him go to sleep and listens as Foggy settles into a pleasant snore.

\--

Matt climbs into bed with Foggy sometime around 5am, when the morning chill hits and dealing with it from the couch is unbearable with the knowledge that there's a warm bed just on the other side of the wall. They've shared a bed before, and it's always been fine.

"Mmm?" Foggy asks, languidly, as he curls himself around Matt.

"It's cold," he explains as he settles into warmth and softness. He nestles, a bit, shifting their bodies to fit a certain way and then he feels it. For the second time in his life, ever. The _ girth_.

Except Foggy is pretty fast asleep now, snoring right into Matt's ear and evidently having a great dream if the way he sometimes whimpers slightly or moves his hips a fraction against Matt's ass is any indication.

And the thing is, it's not Foggy's fault. He's asleep and it's unfair to hold people who are unconscious accountable. So really, it's all on Matt, who is stuck in a prison of his own making, wrapped in his best friend's arms and his dick pressing into him.

Matt could probably leave, but the couch is really cold. So he tries to fall asleep, even though he's breathing too heavily to relax, and tries not to be a creep.

Matt realizes that by now, he might be a bit of a creep.

But in Matt's defense, Foggy had said _ love _ just a few hours ago and Matt wants to live in a reality where Foggy's entire body is available to him without all this guilt and where it's mundane and rote and they can be all over each other as much as they want (which is a lot, in Matt's case, apparently). Matt can pretend to be asleep.

And then he is asleep.

And when he wakes up, it's to the knowledge that Foggy had finished on his back sometime in the night. And he's still breathing softly against his neck and Matt can't find it in himself to move.

Foggy curses as he wakes up. His heart rate spikes through the roof.

"Um, shit," he says, shaking Matt even though he's already awake and well aware of the situation. "Matt, I'm really sorry but I think something happened while I was asleep."

Matt nods sagely. "You had a wet dream like a teenager and you came on me. I've noticed."

"Shit, dude. I'm so sorry. Wine really gets to me at times. This is terrible. I'm so embarrassed. Wow." Foggy crumples in on himself and buries his face into his hands. "You can shower while I fix this mess."

"It's okay, Foggy," Matt assures because he is a best friend after all. His lips twitch into a smirk. "What do you think? Better or worse than the time we masturbated in a bathroom together?"

Foggy just groans and makes to stand up. Which is terrible because now the Foggy smells and the cum smells are just everywhere and Matt. Well, Matt has a situation of his own.

He tells Foggy as much.

"Oh. Um. Okay. Nothing I haven't seen before, right? You can use my shower as long as you need." Everything is Hell. This whole situation is Hell.

And if this is Hell, Matt figures it can't feel worse than it already does.

"You could join me." His voice cracks at how cheesy the line is. It shouldn't work because it's trite and overdone and too wrong for them. Most importantly, it's too lewd for Foggy, who deserves a proper seduction.

But it gets the message across. And Foggy laughs nervously, maybe hoping it's a joke. And no, Matt was wrong because if Hell was a second ago, this is another circle entirely. One with more fire, perhaps. Dante's imagination has nothing on this moment.

"Um. Or. If this is a serious proposal, we can do stuff on these sheets since they're ruined anyway. Shower sex isn't actually all that great."

And it's not Hell, it's just them. Fumbling like always.

\--

Kissing is great even through the morning breath. Kissing is great because it's Foggy's mouth attached to the rest of him. Why hadn't they done this sooner? Their bodies are stiff from just having woken up and it's still the best Matt's skin has ever felt. Foggy reaches around his waist and catches his dried cum and it should be gross but it's not at all and Matt just finds himself wanting more of everything.

When Foggy bites his way down Matt's chest, it's perfect. When he slips his hand between Matt's legs, it's perfect. And when Foggy lays him down on the bed and chokes on his dick, apologizing with a swollen mouth and a voice like a wrecked and wobbly stream, Matt loses all sense of self and reality for a moment.

And eventually, Foggy's inside of him, and it's only his third time experiencing that dick in his life and no amount of preparation could have readied him for how full he would feel, with Foggy on top of him and all around him and _ inside _ him. Matt loves him and he wants to surround himself with Foggy as much and as long as he can.

Foggy lets him finish three times (_ "Just to make sure." _

_ "Sure of what? The evidence is right here, stinking up your sheets." _

_ "That you're having a good time?" _

_ "You could have just asked." _

_ "Are you?" _

_ "Yes, Foggy. Don't stop." _) before he acquiesces to Matt's requests to touch the other man.

Matt makes sure to make Foggy watch himself spill all over Matt's face and chest because he knows how much it makes the other man deflate with a particular satisfaction. (Maybe he had been taking notes of Foggy's preferences over the years. Unconsciously.)

"I guess you win stamina, too," Matt muses as he pets Foggy's hair.

"What are you talking about? You came three times and you aren't passed out. I'm sure you win," he counters. "And what do you mean 'too'? You're bigger than me. We measured."

Matt smiles at him because it's stupid they're still trying to keep track. All that matters is that they fit together and nothing's ever come close to how they are together. They're magic _ together_.

"Do you remember everything about that conversation?" Matt teases.

"I was a dumb kid and very much in love with you. If you don't think I would remember how I got to watch you jerk off, I don't know what to tell you, buddy. Sorry. That's probably really creepy."

"Yeah, a bit," Matt smiles.

"God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to watch or memorize it or anything. These things just stick."

"It's okay. It's like we said that first time we had sex. We're both at fault. It was just a weird situation."

Now Foggy scoffs. "That wasn't sex, dude. There was some dick touching, but that was _ not _ sex."

"What do you mean? Going by sounds and smells and intimacy? Yeah, buddy. I'm pretty sure I know sex when I experience it."

"Matt, no, you can't remember that as our first time."

"What would you call it then?"

"That was terrible. We were both drunk and stupid. It was more of a two-way misdemeanor."

Matt laughs. "Okay. When we tell the grandkids, we're gonna give them the story about the time you jizzed on my back before we started dating."

"Matt, we're not going to tell our grandkids that we've fucked. Ever."

Matt imagines the scene and laughs giddily again. _Grandkids_.

"Insufferable. I'm going to take a shower and we're gonna get brunch at that place with the good eggs benny." Foggy hops off the bed and saunters over to the master bathroom. "Are you coming?"

"Apparently, shower sex sucks."

"Eh, I figure if it's good with anybody, it'll be good with you."

Matt follows. Because wow, Foggy's stamina is on another level.

**Author's Note:**

> In retrospect, with their weird hormonal awkward energy and saccharine ending, this is a spiritual successor to[ this thing i wrote ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18469249). they need to chill.


End file.
